AWOL
by pepperdadog
Summary: Radar is sent closer to the front and later goes AWOL. The members of the M*A*S*H 4077th go looking for him and aren't happy with what they find. Rated for language, abuse, and implied rape.
1. Chapter 1

**Recently I've been obsessed with M*A*S*H so I started working on a story to practice some dialogue and I'm liking it so far. It's set after Henry died, Potter arrives, but before Frank leaves. I really hate Frank, but it's more fun to abuse him then it is Winchester.**

**Since this is for practice, if you see an error let me know, please. I'll try and finish the story, but I can't promise constant updates.**

**[I do not own the copyrights to M*A*S*H and this fanfiction is made for pure enjoyment and not for profit]**

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"Cap'n Pierce? Hey, Hawkeye, you awake?"

"No, I'm just in a reoccurring nightmare; what time is it?" Hawkeye Peirce fumbled around in the dark for his clock. "Damn army issue piece of crap, it says it's only three in the morning, but you wouldn't be dumb enough to wake me up at that godforsaken hour, would you Radar?"

"S-sorry sir," the young man mumbled. "I just wanted to say good-bye. They're reassigning me to another unit closer to the front and I have to leave now."

In a tired haze Hawkeye dragged himself up so he was face to face with Radar, which wasn't far to go considering how short the corporal was. Picking up the nearest magazine he chucked it through the darkness to the other side of the swamp. This was met with a satisfying _thwap_ as it struck BJ in the head and a muffled shout from the other captain. A few whispered yells between the two of them later and both captains were sitting on Hawkeye's bunk while the corporal stood before them fidgeting with something wrapped in his jacket.

"Since I'm gonna be so close to the front I thought it might be safer to leave this with you sirs," he pulled his teddy bear from his jacket and handed it over. "And Klinger'll just muss it up if I leave my trumpet out so I thought maybe you could watch it too?"

"Radar, I don't think I've ever seen you sleep without this. You sure it's a good idea to leave it here?" Hawkeye asked as he rubbed the bear's ear between his fingers.

"Yea, I mean… I don't want to think what would happen if there was a shelling and something happened to the little guy. Besides, I'm more worried about my poor animals. Klinger and Coronal Potter are supposed to watch them for me, but…"

"We'll keep an eye on them too, don't worry," BJ promised.

"Thanks sirs, for everything," Radar smiled.

Hawkeye stood up and wrapped the Corporal in a tight hug. After he let go, BJ hugged him as well and the two saw him off. Throughout the whole conversation they figured Frank was asleep, but the major had lain awake and spied on them. While the captains waved to Radar from the doorway, Frank scribbled down notes to squeal to the coronal about in the morning; such as allowing enlisted men free roam of his tent.

The next morning Radar's departure became public. The cooking staff was the saddest to see him go, mostly because he ate all the food no one else wanted, and then some. By mid day things were getting busy. No one knew when the next helicopter would arrive, the O.R. was a madhouse, and Klinger was so stressed that he accidently ripped his favorite dress and broken a shoe. More than 72 hours later and the flow of wounded had stemmed off and everyone could start to relax. While BJ finished up in surgery, Hawkeye drifted into the mess tent.

"Are we sure we sewed those guys up with everything inside? Because this… whatever it is, looks suspiciously like a kidney I worked on yesterday," Hawkeye complained as he pushed his "meat surprise" around his plate.

"Son, just don't look at it and it'll go down a lot easier," Coronal Potter said.

"Captain Pierce is right, I've seen this before, and I thought I sent it out of here _inside_ of a person," Margret said.

"Ow!" Frank exclaimed and grabbed his jaw. "There was a bullet in mine!"

"That's it; if I eat here or not I'll die of starvation!" Hawkeye said and got up to dump his tray.

Just then BJ walked in, "I hope I didn't miss anything to exciting."

"Naw, you're fine. We just determined that the liver here's actually one of the ones you fixed up yesterday."

"Delightful," BJ said as he got a tray. "I'll take the American soldier on rye please."

That was the tone for the rest of the week; the fun in making jokes had gone and pranks were harder to pull without Radar's devoted help. At the end of the week the only people left in high spirits were Frank and Margret, but even they were slightly dulled without BJ and Hawkeye to get in trouble. The end of the second week brought news no one wanted; it came in the midst of a wave of wounded, Klinger had escaped nurse duty to work on the daily report when he received a call.

"Coronal Potter! Coronal Potter, sir!" Klinger cried as he came scrambling through the crowded O.R.

"Klinger, can this wait? I'm knee deep in blood right now."

"Sorry sir, but I've got important news from the front. Radar's run off!"

"The little rat went AWOL?" Frank asked. "I knew he was a deserter from the start."

"Frank, you shut your mouth or _you'll_ be a deserter when I throw you at the Chinese," Hawkeye threatened. "Besides, Radar wouldn't just up 'n run."

"Well that's what his commanding officer said, that he ran off in the middle of the night last night and they ain't seen him since! Gosh, the poor kid could be anywhere by now. What if he steps on a landmine? Or the North Koreans could get him or he-"

"Klinger, you're about to get the royal boot if you don't put a sock in it," Potter threatened. "Now you get back out there and help with the patients; the sooner we're done in here the sooner we can help look for O'Reilly."

"Yes sir."

"I can't imagine Radar running off without a reason; something must have happened, something bad," Hawkeye thought out loud.

"Later, Hawkeye, later; right now you've got thirty adoring fans lined up to see you," BJ said.

Twelve hours later and Hawkeye, BJ, Frank, Margret, Father Mulcahy, and Klinger had assembled in Coronal Potter's office. The two majors were standing at attention while everyone else sat comfortably. Potter himself was hunched over his desk reading a report. Hawkeye had found a rubber band on his way in and was flicking little pieces of paper at Frank, laughing with BJ every time he scored a headshot.

"Now, according to this… Pierce! Would you knock it off?" Potter snapped.

"Sorry teacher," Hawkeye joked.

"As I was saying; according to this, Radar vamoosed last night and ain't been back yet, so his commanding officer up there's decreed him AWOL and went as far as to tack a bounty to his head. Now if we can find him before the MPs do, then we have a chance to straighten this all out. Frank and I will stay here incase wounded show up, I'll put a call in to Freedman to see if we can get some extra hands, and I need the rest of you to go searching for Radar."

"But sir! You can't be serious," Frank whined. "Why not let the MPs catch the un-American and call it at that? Are you really willing to risk sacrificing the lives of any soldiers that show up because we're short two doctors, our priest, and head nurse?"

"Burns, you're really starting to push my buttons the wrong way, and if it got bad enough I may have to turn around and _not hear_ when Hawkeye and BJ beat you to death with your own spine," Potter said.

"Besides, we've always gotten by down one guy since you started working here," BJ said humorlessly.

"I may have to take you up on that offer Coronal," Hawkeye said.

"Though I am impartial to violence, I must say that your words were uncalled for. Radar is a good friend and a good person," Father Mulcahy said.

"Then I trust you have no objections to going with them to search for him, right Father?"

"I would go in a heartbeat," the priest responded.

"Me too; truth be told, I miss the kid," Klinger said.

To the side, Margret and Frank had been having a whispered argument before the nurse spoke up, "I'll go too Coronal."

"Margret, I'm shocked," Hawkeye said. "Let me guess, you're going to turn him in for the reward?"

"Actually, no, doctor. I wish to go because Corporal O'Reilly is an important member in keeping this unit operational. Without him here there have been some serious shortcomings in the way of management."

"Then it's settled; you five get a good rest and head out at 0800 hours tomorrow. Take a jeep and supplies; and Klinger, don't forget your rifle."

"I won't sir!" Klinger saluted. "I'll even wear a _uniform_, sir."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to **_**Bartimus Crochety**_** who told me it's spelled: "Colonel Potter" and NOT Coronal Potter!**

**Thanks to everyone else who reviewed and told me something I could fix!**

**Let it be known that I do NOT speak or understand Korean, and that the text in Korean in this chapter is what I got when I used an online translator, so it's obviously not 100 percent correct.**

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"Hawkeye, we're leaving any minute," BJ shook his sleeping friend's shoulder. "Come on; wake up, would ya?"

When he didn't move, BJ picked up Radar's trumpet – which was kept on the shelf by Hawkeye's bed – and blew in to the instrument as loudly as he could. The result was a wet _blat_ sound which woke both Hawkeye and Frank.

"Honestly Hunnicutt! I have to do all of both your's work while you go wondering around looking for that runt, so you should have at least a little consideration about waking a man at this hour. And-"

**Wake-e, wake-e everybody! We've got wounded on the compound. First shift report to triage. The O'Reilly Search and Rescue Squad should report to in front of the mess tent, your jeeps are waiting.**

"Ohhhh… nerts on you," Frank grumbled and hurried out of the tent.

"Every second you're in bed, Radar is getting more lost out there," BJ said.

Hawkeye threw back his covers and tugged on his boots. "Here's hoping Potter can handle the wounded, _and_ Burns, all on his own."

BJ had to drag Hawkeye most of the way to the jeep to keep the doctor from rushing over to the O.R. There weren't many wounded – maybe between ten and fifteen – and most of them were mild cases anyway, but that didn't stop him from worrying. Once everyone was ready they split into groups of two; Hawkeye drew the short breakfast sausage and was the lucky one to go on his own. Margret went with Klinger in the first jeep and BJ and Father Mulcahy took the second. They each took a field medic bag and a rifle; since Klinger was the only one who really knew how to shoot they decided the guns would remain unloaded for their own safety.

"Jeep, don't fail me now!" Hawkeye said as he went peeling down the street with the others close behind.

While the others went ahead, BJ and Father Mulcahy decided to scan the area closer to camp. They followed along a less beaten path into the woods, their pace slowed to a crawl over the many roots and branches in their way. Soon the branches above their heads blocked out to much sunlight for them to keep going safely.

"Perhaps we should turn back," Mulcahy said.

"You're probably right," BJ sighed and rested his head on the steering wheel. "God damn it! Oh… sorry Father."

"It's OK, my son; I'm sure the others will find Radar and they'll bring him back to us."

"I just don't get why he would do something like that. Radar's a good kid and he knows what happens if you… ya know," BJ said.

Father Mulcahy patted the doctor's shoulder comfortingly. "There is a reason – a good reason – that he ran, but we won't find it here. Our best bet would be to return to MASH and wait for the others."

"Alright, just let me…" BJ began to maneuver the jeep back and forth in an attempt to turn around; unfortunately the brush had gotten so thick that there was no room and he ended up getting caught on a root. "Ohhhh that's," _kata-THUNK_, "not good."

"Oh my."

"Well, Father, I think we're walkin'."

"Hmmm; if it's alright with you, I'd like to carry the bag."

BJ handed the priest the bag and grabbed the rifle and ammo as he got out. "I don't blame you. Can't say I honestly trust this thing not to go off in my face; unloaded or not."

The two walked most of the way back to the camp before they hitched a ride on the back of a local's ox carts. The trip was bumpy and smelly, but it beat walking. The lady driving the cart dropped them off outside Rosie's Bar and they paid her generously before finishing the trek. For as long as they had been gone, they were surprised to find they were the first ones back, and just in time too. Helicopters began landing and busses arrived minutes after they talked to Colonel Potter about the search, each of them loaded with wounded.

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Hawkeye based his search area on logic. In other words, he looked for any place a short person could fit. It was a sound strategy until he realized just how many small places there were for things or people to hide in, and those people or things could be Radar or they could be snakes, land mines, or short Chinese or North Korean soldiers. His luck with jeeps was only slightly worse than BJ and Father Mulcahy's; when he left it by the side of the road to investigate a thick brush, a group of North Korean soldiers liberated it. Running off his every present "logic" he had left all of his equipment in the jeep when he got out of it.

"Why can't we ever have a nice, peaceful drinking contest to settle wars instead of all this shooting and stealing jeeps from doctors?"

"필요로 하는 도움이 필요하세요?" _[Do you need help?]_ A passing local asked.

"Hi, I'm a doctor. Don't mind me, I'm just going on a leisurely walk around your country at the moment," Hawkeye said, having no knowledge of how to speak or understand Korean.

"의사가 있습니까? 미국 의사들도 있습니다." _[You are a doctor? The American doctors are that way.]_ The local pointed down the road; he understood some of what Hawkeye said, but most of it was unintelligent gibberish to him – and to anyone else for that matter.

"Ya, sure. Thanks, I think. But I came from that way so I'm going to go back now," Hawkeye smiled began walking in the opposite direction.

"아니, 아니에요! 가시겠는 그런 방향으로 흐른다는 것입니다." _[No, no sir! You want to go that direction.]_ The local said again, pointing the same direction and shaking Hawkeye's elbow.

"Persistent little fellow, aren't you? Fine, we'll do this your way. Lead on," Hawkeye said, giving in to the man and letting him lead him down the road.

Not long after that they arrived at Rosie's Bar, just as BJ and the Father had earlier in the day. By then it was rather dark and Hawkeye could see the lights of the MASH lit up. Thanking the local one last time, and paying him with a sandwich he'd packed in his pocket, he hurried on. Colonel Potter chewed him out for letting his jeep get stolen along with the pack and rifle – he let the other two off the hook a bit more because their jeep was more or less unmovable and they had brought back their equipment – but was glad to see him back and safe. The night was a long one as everyone was worried when Margret and Klinger didn't come back; Potter decided if they weren't back by noon the next day then he was putting out missing person reports on them and calling off all further searches for Radar.

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"Major, maybe I should be the one driving?" Klinger suggested hesitantly as he clung to his seat for dear life.

Margret was driving as fast as she could and swerving all across the road in attempt to avoid the shells exploding around them. She slammed the breaks – causing Klinger to smack his face into the dashboard – and bailed out, grabbing the medical bag and running for cover. Griping over his sore nose, Klinger followed behind with his rifle and helmet. The two crouched under the brush along the side of the road and waited. It wasn't long before the jeep exploded and the shelling stopped.

"Just great; now what do we do?" Klinger asked.

"Oh shut up you. You've got the gun, don't you?" Margret nodded to the weapon. "We'll be fine so long as we keep our heads."

"Well – uh – speaking of "keeping our heads", can you keep yours when I tell you it ain't loaded?"

Margret turned slowly to the Lebanese, an icy look in her eye. "It's _what?_"

"Ya see, we all agreed not to load the guns, so I kept the ammo in the back seat. But now the back seat's blown from here to Toledo so I'm thinkin' I ain't getting them back."

"KLINGER!" Margret reared back and smacked him with her bag, yelling curses and insults at his stupidity.

Once the Major finished venting her anger, the two began walking back along the side of the road. Craters still smoked where shells had gone off, but that didn't mean the area was safe from another bombing. They avoided tall grass and other places land mines could be as much as possible, but if they had to go through them Margret made sure to send Klinger a few steps ahead of her. At the same time Hawkeye was arriving back they were still miles away. With little other to choose from they went about setting up a make-shift camp for the night.

"You take first watch. If North Koreans come, let them take you quietly so you don't wake me," Margret instructed as she lay down.

Klinger grumbled to himself for nearly an hour before dozing off. The small fire he had started blew out some time in the night and the wind was picking up even more. When he woke up it was to dark to see anything clearly, but he could hear someone moving around not far off. He chalked it up as Margret going to the bathroom and closed his eyes once more. The next morning he woke to someone shaking him.

"Klinger; Klinger, he's here! Damn it Klinger, wake up!"

"Wha~ No! I wasn't asleep; I swear," Klinger cried and put his hands up to protect himself.

"Oh hush up you and open your eyes," Margret scolded. "He just wandered in here sometime in the night and collapsed. It must have been when the wind was strong because I didn't hear him."

"Who?"

"Superman… Who do you think it is? Idiot."

Looking around the Major, Klinger could see a small lump in an army uniform passed out on the ground. He was covered in mud, twigs, and blood. Judging by the angle of his leg he figured it was broken in at least two places. Margret was already trying to splint the leg as Klinger sat there in shock, his face white.

"Shit," Klinger felt the blood rush from his face and his stomach heaved.

Margret watched as he stumbled back and vomited to the side. "Damn it, this is not the time! I need you to put some pressure on his gut. He's bleeding bad, probably took some shrapnel from a land mine, and recently too."

The medical bag had scarcely anything in it. There was just enough tape to set his leg by using the rifle and a branch as support. Margret removed the major pieces of shrapnel that wouldn't cause excess bleeding and rubbed his whole chest down with alcohol before they covered it up with cotton balls and tape. Unfortunately there was no morphine, penicillin or anything else they could give him.

"Guess we better get him back to camp," Klinger sighed and shifted his arms around the lump to scoop him up.

"I'm surprised he's even alive. I've seen boys in conditions like his die before they even got into O.R. and we don't even know if that's all that's wrong with him. There may be internal bleeding or he may have ticks _– Did you check his legs like I asked you to? – _or he may have a concussion," Margret began to list.

"He'll be fine," Klinger assured her. "Radar's a tough kid. Little, but tough."

"I can carry him in a while."

"Nah, that's okay, he's actually really, really light."

Margret reached across and ran her fingers along Radar's side, feeling out every one of his ribs. "There's at least one broken and a few fractures. You're right; he's lost a considerable amount of weight."

"We'll get him back to MASH and Cap'in Pierce 'n Hunnicutt'll fix him up; then the mess staff'll stuff him 'til he pops!"

They walked for most of the day until a jeep with Colonel Potter himself driving it came roaring down the road. The ride back to the 4077th was silent; Margret kept checking on Radar, Potter was driving like a taxi driver from Chicago, and Klinger was… being Klinger. When the pulled in they were mobbed with everyone wanting to know how Radar was, but when they saw his condition they all made way for the stretcher to carry him in to the O.R. There weren't any other wounded so all the doctors – excluding Frank, who was sulking in the Swamp – scrubbed and started to operate.

It wasn't a hard case, most of the shrapnel was shallow and came out without a fuss, and things were going well until his heart stopped.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to **_**RadcliffePotter**_** who told me how to spell ****Margaret**** instead of Margret.**

** Thanks to **_**GoldenRoya**_** who pointed out some issues in the first chapter.**

** And thanks to anyone else who reviews with something I can fix!**

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"Seven hours on the kid and he's still having trouble breathing," B.J. lamented as he flopped down on one of the benches outside the O.R.

"I thought we lost him there a few times," Hawkeye said. "Scoot over."

The other doctor refused to move so Hawkeye sat down practically on top of him and laid his head back. For a minute everything was quiet, most of the camp was asleep, and the only sounds came from Colonel Potter's office. Klinger had been calling around during the operation, trying to find out what may have happened at the other unit. Finally he had gotten through to a soldier from the unit who had been wounded and sent to an aid station. At present he and Margaret were listening in with the clerk's office phone to the Colonel's conversation.

"Ah, good evening Hawkeye," Father Mulcahy said as he walked up.

"And B.J," B.J. mumbled from under his friend.

"Oh, yes, sorry. I didn't see you there," Mulcahy apologized. "Good evening B.J."

"What can we do for you Father?" Hawkeye asked.

"Well, I was just wondering how he was doing. I heard that he gave you a few problems on the table."

Hawkeye scoffed. "More than a few. I think he was determined to prove me wrong every time I told him he'd be okay. When we sewed up one spot, another sprung a leak! He didn't need doctors, he needed a plumber!"

"Oh," the Father chewed his bottom lip, and studied his shoes carefully.

"What he means is that things were rough, but he's fine now," B.J. said, and nudged Hawkeye in the ribs.

"Right, yeah; he'll wake up tomorrow, probably. Unless he thrashes in his sleep. Then he'll probably rip the stitches in his stomach and all his insides'll rush out and…"

B.J. stood abruptly and dragged Hawkeye along with him towards their tent, leaving the priest looking more depressed then before. "Has anyone ever told you you're a horrible people person?"

"Only when I'm angry, tired, or roaring drunk. Speaking of drinking, I think my liver's healed enough to be destroyed again."

B.J. shook his head and forced Hawkeye into bed. Once his friend was quiet he stood and poured himself a drink. He downed it in silence and crawled onto his bunk. The other half of the tent was empty and Frank's bed was still made, but neither doctor cared. By the time they woke up, the first beads of sunlight were poking in and he still wasn't back.

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"You put that food under my nose one more time and I'll put that fork somewhere _very_ unpleasant," B.J. threatened.

Hawkeye pulled back his forkful of breakfast and shot his friend a sour look. "How am I supposed to eat if you won't tell me what it smells like?"

"I find it easier to down this grub if I don't think about what it smells like, son, so knock it off!" Colonel Potter barked.

"Long night, Colonel?" Margaret asked.

"I spent more time on the phone then in surgery! By the time I got a hold of that boy from the unit, he was being moved. Now the field medics don't have time to tell me if he'll be showing up here or at the 8063."

"I'm sure everything'll turn out fine, Colonel. We just have to have a little faith," Father Mulcahy said.

The table fell quiet as they all ate. The mess tent was as crowded as it ever was, but the usual roar of conversation had subsided to a dull muttering. Everyone seemed more focused on eating their large plates of food, which the cook and Igor had prepared when he heard Radar was back in camp but before they knew he was in no condition for solid foods. The only people not affected by the clerk's arrival were the people who arrived after he'd left and Frank, who was still nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly Nurse Kelly rushed into the room. "Doctors, you have to hurry! Major Burns called the MPs, they're in post-op!"

Everyone hurried from the tent and followed the nurse. Sure enough Frank Burns was standing behind three large MPs with guns while another was handcuffing Radar, who was still sleeping off the surgery. Hawkeye and Hunnicutt were able to push their way to the front and began yelling at the officer to back off. The two seemed to intimidate the MPs as they spewed out every possible reason they could think of for keeping Radar with them. Finally Colonel Potter got through and calmed them down.

"Would you _fine_ gentlemen kindly explain to me why you came in here and assaulted an obviously wounded boy and tried to take him off without so much as asking my _permission_ to enter this room first?" He asked through clenched teeth.

"Well; we's, uhhh… Major Burns here said yous said we's to take 'im cause he's AWOL. Says yous said he's trouble," the leader of the group blubbered.

"Oh, he _did_, did he?" The Colonel continued talking to the MPs as he slowly paced towards the Major. "And what _else_ did he tell you?"

"He says yous're busy an's we's to take 'im and he'd explain wha' happened to yous later. Wes're just followin' orders, uhh, sir."

"That's alright boys. It was an honest mistake, next time be sure to ask the C.O. first. You just run along now; this boy is in no condition to be moved or disturbed, so I suggest you go back about your business."

"Yessir," the head MP motioned for the others to follow and they left.

"You, on the other hand," Potter barked at Burns when he tried to slip out with the MPs, "can march yourself right into my office while we _doctors_ make sure your little stunt didn't mess up any of the surgery we spent so much time and effort on."

"Y-yessir," Burns said and hurried through the double doors to the Colonel's office.

Luckily for Ferret-Face Burns, both Hunnicutt and Pierce were to preoccupied with checking Radar over to kill him when he passed them by. Nurse Houlihan was busy calming the other patents but looked up in time to shoot him a murderous glare. Father Mulcahy gave him a disapproving look before going to help the remaining Major. Once everything was back in order, Colonel Potter led the rest of them into his office.

"So, B.J., do you think this'll be a Major funeral or a funeral of a Major?" Hawkeye asked, giving Frank a stink-eye.

"I thought it would be a minor one. I figured he'd go out without any major notice," B.J. said.

"Now, before we all go gonzo on him for that whole situation back there, Major – and I use that term lightly – Major Burns has the right to calmly explain why in the Sam Hills was going through that pea-brain of his at the time. Well? Start talkin'!" Colonel Potter demanded as he sat behind his desk.

Frank Burns had been preparing for this, he knew what was happening the minute he was sent to the office, and he'd used his time like any noble member of the United States army should: thinking up a _really_ good sob story. He'd been running it over and over all while he waited; he knew he had it in the bag with this one. By the end he'd have Pierce and Hunnicutt clapping him on the back and congratulating him on making the right choice, Father Mulcahy would write a sermon in his honor, Colonel Potter would reword him with two three-day passes to Tokyo, and Margaret would fly into his arms and they'd have the weekend they so rightfully deserved. He could see it all now, and it would all be a reality, just as soon as he told them.

"Well, Frank? We're waiting?" Colonel Potter said, his fingers tapping impatiently on his desk. "Why'd you do it?"

Taking a deep breath, Frank straightened up and stuck his chin out, opened his mouth, and started. "Well he's AWOL, sir!"

After a moment, Father Mulcahy spoke up. "That's it?"

"Well of course, isn't that enough reason?"

"Frank, I'm going to count to three," Hawkeye threatened. "If I were you, I'd start running, because the second I hit three, I'm going to come over there and beat the snot out of you!"

"Colonel, you have to see reason! Sooner or later they would have found him and we'd have all gotten in trouble. Is one measly clerk really worth it?"

"One," Hawkeye took a step towards him.

"Colonel Potter!" Frank whined.

"Two," Margaret picked up, also advancing towards the sniveling Major.

"Ohhhh! Not you too Margaret!"

"Three!" B.J. finished and they all lunged at Frank, who turned to the door and tried to escape.

"Wounded in the compound!" Klinger announced, barging through the doors.

_Wa-thump!_

"Yeah, and one of them's Major Ferret-Face here. Nice going Klinger, you're the first man I've met who could pull off that outfit and K.O. an asshole all at the same time," Hawkeye said.

"You mean, I did that?" Klinger asked, looking down at the unconscious Major. "Well, gee, serves him right."

"Alright, alright, we'll deal with this later. Right now we've got wounded," Colonel Potter reminded them. "Pierce, Hunnicutt and I will start prepping; Klinger, you and the good father are going to help run litters. Houlihan, you get your nurses ready, and see if you can't get two of them to escort the Major back to his bunk."

"Yessir," Margaret said, stepping over Frank and hurrying off.

"Oh, and sir?" Klinger said. "I heard the boy from Radar's unit's in this batch. You want me to keep an eye out for him?"

"Great idea, and if we have any trouble getting him to talk we could just up his prescription and send you in one of your evening dresses while his head's floating around," Hawkeye joked.

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**So I have this thing with another of my stories where, at the bottom of every chapter I put something called a "Rapture Reminder" and they're really fun to write, but I'm not sure if they'd work in this story… I might give it a try next chapter if I can think of one.**


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing weary eyes saw when they forced themselves open were the equally weary eyes staring back. If the body they were in had any strength left, it would have jumped or yelled in surprise; however, their body was immobile and weighed more than a jeep.

Ugh, jeeps. The body hated jeeps because they bounced around so much. The memories hated jeeps because a certain ride in one of them had been permanently slashed into it. As the memories were pulled out of the clouded mind and began to play across the eyes, they snapped shut and the mouth let out a pitiful groan.

"Nurse? Nurse!" It sounded like a man with a New York accent, but his voice was drown by the roar of the jeep as it flew over the dirt road as explosions created even more craters.

A hand scrambles for a hold on the seat. The other forces a helmet farther over brown hair. To the left, the driver spins the wheel - as though he's playing roulette - and prays the jeep won't send him into the line of fire.

Things blur. Time speeds up. The eyes settle on seeing black. The stomach, however, settles on being upset.

"Nurse! Aw geeze! Nurse!" The voice is back. This time it doesn't go away completely, it merely drops to a low buzz.

"On your feet soldier," a gruff, new voice demands. "I didn't say you were finished."

Splashes of color realign themselves into dirt and a pair of overly polished combat boots. The colors are slow to follow as the view gets shakily higher. When it stops, it's almost looking a man in the face, but that's still too high and the colors can't decide where they go.

The eyes and mind may have been confused, but the body recognized the feeling of pain it was swimming in. The back forced itself to straighten up. The legs and hands twitched uncontrollably. The teeth bit the tongue to silence the screams.

Metal. That's what the odd glint is. A metal barrel pointed at the leg. A hand spins the chamber and stops it. The trigger is pulled. Nothing happens.

"What's that? You didn't flinch that time."

"No sir." The mouth responds before the mind can stop it.

"Why?"

"I knew the chamber wasn't loaded."

The chamber spins again. The leg's muscles tense up, they expect the pain. They're wrong. No bullets fly. No power is ignited. Instead, something crashes into the jaw and sends it to the ground.

There is silence in the ears, except for the throbbing, and the mind feels at piece not knowing what will come next. Instead the legs felt something warm and wet running down them. The smell was disgusting. The stinging as the warmth flowed over old wounds was numbing.

Soon, the body realized, it was completely numb. Nothing felt. Nothing heard. Nothing moved.

The warmth was gone, replaced by a nipping coldness in his mind. Before more memories could come, the mind was gone. It floated on a glacier in the arctic.

* * *

"Hey, doc? He gonna be okay?" Private Nathan Stern asked a man in a white coat as he and some hairy nurse loaded the boy in the bed next to him onto a gurney. "Doc?"

Nathan settled back into his pillow as the doctor hurried off. They'd told him Walter was with them. They hadn't, however, said he was half dead and lying in the bed next to him. Various emotions had tugged at his stomach as he watched him for nearly three hours.

Guilt was the most prominent. It summed up all the others: sorrow, fear, respect, anger, horror, _love_. Walter was a good boy; he hadn't disserved what they'd done to him. Sure, the first day was great since the guys weren't all over him, calling him a fag or queer and pushing him around. After that, he realized the kid was in the same boat he was, if for different reasons.

He'd overheard the commanding officer telling him off for various things before a few key words slipped out. Words such as "heathen", "psycho", and "gypsy cunt". None of it made sense at first, but then he noticed how Walter always seemed aware of things that were happening, before they happened.

The rest of the week had been a game of hide and seek. He would hide Walter, and the rest of the guys would try and seek him. The boy, however, wasn't very good at staying hidden because his damn job kept him sprinting about like a rabbit.

Private Stern had explained all that to a strange man named Freedman hours before Walter opened his eyes.

* * *

**Feh, it ain't much, but I just cranked that out in about an hour and a half. Everyone reading this can give a nice, big thank you to my anonymous review **_**Hannah**_** who made me feel like I had to put something up.**

**Remember, grammar and spelling issues would be fixed if someone would tell me they were there. Even if you hate the chapter, let me know! I'm only doing this to improve and reviews about loving – while they do boost my ego – do not make me better.**


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